


Play with Fire

by fallingyoonjin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings Realization, M/M, Piercings, Tattoo artist!Atsumu, mafia boss!sakusa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29928993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingyoonjin/pseuds/fallingyoonjin
Summary: “Just admit ya love me, just a little bit,” Atsumu prompts and swallows him down in one try. Sakusa’s leg jerks next to his head.“I don’t,” he breathes out and tugs Atsumu’s head down on his cock.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 289
Collections: sakuatsu





	Play with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> giving you criminals in love

“Ya shouldn’t move when yer getting tattooed, y’know. I’m gonna mess up the design.”

Sakusa snorts, smoke furling from his parted lips, and flexes his shoulder. The tattoo gun derails from its original course, leaving a smudge on the hawk’s wing. “I don’t feel like sitting still. Fix it.”

Atsumu smirks at him and presses harder on his skin. Sakusa doesn’t flinch but his eye twitches from the sting. “Don’t feel like fixin’ it.”

He gets an eyeful of smoke for that and turns his head to the side, eyes watering and throat contracting in a choke. He can feel Sakusa’s smug face smirking at him, the bastard. “For that, I’m givin’ yer hawk a pussy.”

He turns back to the bare chest in front of him and sets the tattoo gun down on the pale skin again. He’s been inking Sakusa for an hour now, filling his shoulder in black and gray. It’s a beautiful design, one that Atsumu had drawn himself in fifteen minutes after Sakusa had barged in and demanded another tattoo without any warning.

“Give my hawk a pussy and I’ll give you a bullet in your head,” he rasps out and stubs his cigarette on the ashtray.

Atsumu doesn’t avert his concentration from what he’s doing as he chuckles breathily. “Ya wanted me dead, an’ I would’ve been dead years ago. Give it up, Omi, ya like me alive.”

“I like you on my dick, there’s a difference,” Sakusa corrects him and threads his fingers in Atsumu’s bleached hair. He winces when Sakusa’s rings catch onto a strand and pull it out of his scalp. “I think I want you on my lap the next time you do this.”

“Yer runnin’ out of space,” Atsumu tells him and spreads his palm over an inked chest. “Unless ya want a face tattoo.”

He flicks his eyes up to meet Sakusa’s when warm fingers brush over the black lettering on his cheekbone. His voice is dismissive when he says: “I’ll leave those to you. Can’t give the cops any more shit to hold against me.”

Atsumu scoffs and wipes off the leftover ink. “They can’t arrest ya. As far as they’re concerned yer just the owner of a perfectly legal casino. They got no proof of anythin’ else.”

Sakusa hums. “For now. Are you almost done?”

Atsumu leans back and admires his handiwork. It’s still wonky where he fucked up, but he’s also not planning to correct it. Sakusa’s fault for moving. “Yeah. I’ll probably have to redo some of the color later, but for now it’ll do. Jesus, it smells like smoke in here, couldn’t ya have opened the window first?”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Sakusa shrugs and moves so Atsumu can wrap plastic around his shoulder. “Besides, there’s no one here.”

“Yeah, ‘cause ya keep comin’ in here at midnight. What if I was already asleep, huh?”

“I could’ve just broken in, you know. I know you keep forgetting to turn the alarm system on every night.”

“Aw shit. Maybe I should let Hinata close up from now on. He’d remember.”

Atsumu sits back and stretches his neck. To get close to Sakusa’s shoulder, he had to sit in a very uncomfortable angle. Sakusa doesn’t move from his chair as he lights up another cigarette. Atsumu rolls his eyes, already knowing his studio is going to smell like smoke for the next 48 hours. Thank God his clientele consists exclusively of criminals who don’t give a shit.

He lets his eyes trail over Sakusa’s half-naked body. He lounges comfortably with his knees spread, the waistband of his Calvins peeking from his slacks, toned torso on display. His chest rises with every drag of his cigarette.

“Ya got plans for tonight?” Atsumu asks him. It’s closer to 1 am now, but he knows Sakusa stays busy no matter the time.

Sakusa blows smoke to the ceiling, looking contemplative. “Not really. A couple of business calls to New York, but they can wait. Don’t think Sawamura would appreciate me calling at 4 am.”

Atsumu hums. “Good. I’m horny.”

He gets an amused smirk from Sakusa, who raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And what makes you think that has anything to do with me?”

“Shut up. I can see yer dick twitchin’,” Atsumu grins and slides off his stool, dropping to his knees next to Sakusa’s legs. He spreads his legs automatically to make space for him, humming appreciatively from above him.

“You do make a nice sight on your knees.” He tangles his fingers in Atsumu’s hair again, this time pushing his face towards his crotch. “Go ahead, then. Suck my cock.”

That’s all permission Atsumu needs before he’s hungrily unbuckling Sakusa’s belt and unzipping his slacks. He tugs on them futilely, glaring up at leering Sakusa when the man makes no move to help him. “Move yer ass, Omi. Can’t suck yer dick if I can’t get it out.”

“You should ask nicely. I don’t want any attitude from you.”

“My attitude is the reason I’m still here an’ not a part of yer body count,” Atsumu grumbles, but peers up at Sakusa anyway. “Help me take off yer pants, please?”

Sakusa lifts his hips, allowing Atsumu to pull down his slacks and his underwear. He sits back down, gripping his half-hard cock by the base. He slaps it against Atsumu’s cheek lightly, smirking when he tries to chase it with his mouth. His voice is matter-of-fact when he speaks, like they’re discussing the weather. “Look at you, so impatient for cock. You’re a whore, you know that?”

Atsumu’s cock twitches in interest, but he focuses on the one in front of him. He licks up a wet stripe along the shaft, swirling his tongue on the tip. He smirks smugly when Sakusa’s head drops down to rest on the chair, his breath stuttering.

“Just admit ya love me, just a little bit,” Atsumu prompts and swallows him down in one try. Sakusa’s leg jerks next to his head.

“I don’t,” he breathes out and tugs Atsumu’s head down on his cock.

..

Sakusa gives him a doubtful glance as he takes his gun apart to clean it. “I really don’t see one good reason for you to do that yourself.”

Atsumu ignores him, tongue sticking out as he leans closer to the mirror. He holds his bottom lip between two fingers and tilts his head to see better. He holds the needle where he’s planning on sticking it in and hesitates. Letting go, he turns to Sakusa. “I can’t decide. Do I pierce the side or the middle? Ya have to give me an answer.”

Sakusa sighs and sets his disassembled gun down next to him. They’re camped out on Atsumu’s studio’s floor, close to the wall with the full-body mirror. “The middle. Do an Ashley.”

Atsumu looks at his reflection, tries to imagine a single stud on his lip. “Ya got good taste, Omi. An Ashley it is.”

He rummages through all his jewelry and finds a simple labret stud with a black ball on the end. He shows it to Sakusa. “This good?”

He gets a positive grunt and sets it aside for now. He grabs the needle again, positions it on his lip and takes a deep breath. The needle pierces skin and muscle tissue in one swoop and pain flares through his nerves.

Atsumu’s face contorts in a grimace and he knocks the floor with a clenched fist. “Fuuck,” he mumbles, trying to keep his lips apart at the same time. Sakusa watches him, scrubbing his gun with practiced ease without even having to look. “It hurts?”

Atsumu inhales and nods exaggeratedly. He takes the jewelry he set aside earlier and inserts it, sighing in relief when he gets to pull the needle off. “Holy shit, that stung. Worth it, though.”

Sakusa eyes his lip with disdain. “It’s bleeding.”

“Yeah well, at least I didn’t tear my skin like the time I did my nose,” he points at his nostril. “There’s still a scar.”

“Hm.” Sakusa goes back to putting his gun together. Atsumu presses a wad of tissue paper against his piercing and then drapes himself over Sakusa’s legs. The man immediately shifts to accommodate him, lowering his knees.

Atsumu smiles up at him, feels his new piercing rub against his front teeth. “We can’t kiss for a few months. No dick sucking either.”

Sakusa’s response is dry. “Oh no, how will I survive. I can find better head literally anywhere else. Think your brother’s up for it?”

Atsumu wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Gross. ‘Samu wouldn’t suck yer dick.”

They sit there in silence, Atsumu not moving from his position on Sakusa’s lap. He thinks about it for a moment. “Say I’m the best one you’ve had.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“I won’t.”

Atsumu huffs. “Fine. I’ll just go and fuck Kita, then. Maybe he can agree with me.”

Sakusa’s fingers in his hair clench and even though it tugs on his scalp uncomfortably, Atsumu still grins in satisfaction. “You’re not fucking Kita.”

“Maybe I already have.”

Sakusa looks down at him, dark eyes inspecting his lighter ones. His expression relaxes and he lets go of his hair. “Nah. He couldn’t fuck you like I do. You know that. I’ve ruined dick for you forever.”

Atsumu huffs in amusement. “So ya get to say yer the best one I’ve had, but I can’t say the same for myself? Hardly seems fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Sakusa dismisses and tugs on the barbell on Atsumu’s eyebrow. “You’ve worn this one for a while. I’ll buy you a new one.”

Atsumu hums. “A golden one?”

“Sure.”

“Hmm,” Atsumu stretches and buries his face in Sakusa’s lower abdomen. “Ya love me.”

“I don’t,” is his automatic response, but the way he brushes a gentle thumb against the soft skin underneath Atsumu’s ear says otherwise.

..

A shudder travels through Atsumu’s body and he sinks his nails in inked shoulders, leaving red crescents behind. He gets a sharp swat on his reddened asscheek for that one. It just makes him harder.

His toes curl as he grinds deep onto Sakusa’s cock, tiny undulations of his hips, trying to massage the sensitive spot inside him. He’s not supposed to move, is supposed to sit nice and pretty on Sakusa’s cock while he makes his phone calls, but it’s been almost an hour and he’s getting impatient.

Surprisingly, Sakusa lets him roll his hips, his expression not even stuttering as he keeps talking to Suna or whoever is on the other side. He’s pretty sure Suna knows what they’re doing, it’s not the first time this has happened and Atsumu definitely hasn’t been able to keep his mouth shut. He would feel bad, but then he remembers the time Suna stabbed him in the shoulder with a pen for a dare and his sympathy vanishes.

_Hang up,_ he mouths to Sakusa and rocks forward in his lap. Sakusa’s eyes darken as his cock throbs inside Atsumu and he tilts his head. “You think we can continue this later? I got things to do.”

Atsumu smiles in satisfaction. Sakusa brings the phone from his ear to Atsumu’s, the latter frowning at him in confusion. He gasps when hips suddenly snap against his ass, slamming deep inside him. His moan comes out stuttering and he realizes the purpose of the phone.

“Atsumu? Oh God, I did not need to hear this. Give the phone back to Sakusa, you slut,” Suna’s disgusted, impatient voice comes from the receiver. Sakusa smirks at Atsumu smugly.

Atsumu laughs breathily, trying to match Sakusa’s thrusts with his own. “Hi, Rin. How’s the weather in San Francisco?”

“Fucking awesome. Tell Sakusa we’re not done talking.”

Atsumu raises an eyebrow at Sakusa, who just rolls his eyes and hangs up. He tosses his phone on his table and grabs Atsumu’s hips with a tight grip. He stands up, taking Atsumu with him, and sets him on the edge of the table, before slamming into him in earnest.

“Finally,” Atsumu groans and wraps his aching legs around a toned waist. “C’mon, fuck me harder.”

Sakusa’s pace quickens, the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and squelching lube filling the room and Atsumu’s back arches. “Oh, fuck, that’s good.”

Sakusa chuckles in his ear. “Say I’m the best you’ve had.”

“Fuck off,” Atsumu gasps as Sakusa’s cock hits his prostate at just the right angle. “How do ya even remember that?”

“Say it,” Sakusa’s voice comes out commanding and husky.

Atsumu’s orgasm surprises him, slamming into him at full force, his cum splattering on their stomachs. His eyes flutter closed as he trembles through the aftershocks. He babbles deliriously in his pleasure: “Yer the best I’ve had, no one fucks me as good, yer so good, Omi, I love ya-“

Sakusa comes inside him without warning, his hips jolting and hands gripping bruises on his waist. He pants above him, face twisted in mild surprise Atsumu doesn’t see, his own eyes too busy being closed.

..

“Got a new tattoo,” Atsumu announces as he barges in Sakusa’s room. The latter turns his head where he’s lounging on his bed in his underwear. “Wanna see?”

“Where?”

“On my hip.” Atsumu crawls on the bed and settles on top of Sakusa’s abdomen. His hands come to rest on Atsumu’s thighs instinctively.

“Show me, then. Is it healed?”

“Yup. Got it a couple of months ago. It’s why I haven’t let ya see me naked.”

He pushes his sweats down to his spread thighs and peels the waistband of his boxers down too. He pushes his hips forward to show Sakusa, who’s leaning towards him to see better. “Ya like it?”

He watches Sakusa’s face change from shock to disbelief to realization to amusement. “You got my name tattooed?”

Atsumu smiles proudly and traces the cursive letters spelling out _Omi_ with his fingernail. “I did. On my hip too, so you’d see it every time we fuck and know I’m yours.”

Sakusa shakes his head and pushes himself into a sitting position before shoving Atsumu on his back, settling between his legs. “You’re literally insane.”

“Says you,” Atsumu grins up at him. “Ya tried to fuckin’ kill me when we first met.”

Sakusa scoffs. “Too bad I didn’t succeed. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass ever since.”

“It’s okay to say ya love me, Omi.”

He exhales, inspects Atsumu’s face for a long moment, before dropping down to hide his face in his neck. Atsumu’s hands rise to thread through his curls.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “I do love you.”


End file.
